Page 5 of It All Began at Dixieland

“Foster!” I stop between the elevator doors to observe the gorgeous and petite woman waving at me. No, not me, the stranger with my luggage.

He smiles at her and it’s all white teeth and charm. My stomach flips as I watch him, a little flutter of jealousy it isn’t aimed at me. Stupid. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna help her get her luggage to her room.”

The woman with sun-streaked blond hair and pouty lips glances at me, her head cocking to the side for a second, before she shakes herself and waves. “I’ll meet you at the car.”

“SHIT!” The elevator doors try to close on me. “Sorry. I got it from here. Thank you, uh, Foster.”

“Do you have extra arms and hands? Are you a witch?”

“No,” I reply automatically.

“Then I’ll help you to your room.” I shrug, and step all the way into the car, sticking to the corner. With both carts and both of us, it’s cramped. We ride up to the fourth floor in silence. I’m too busy holding my breath so I don’t inhale his woodsy cologne and rub up against him like a cat. Not sure why he’s silent. He can probably sense my weirdness.

I lead us down the hall on my floor and stop in front of my room. I drop the handle to the cart and flinch when it hits the floor with a thud. My hands go into my pockets, and I rock back and forth on my feet. Eyes fixed just over his shoulder; I face him.

“Thank you, Foster, I appreciate your assistance.”

His smirk is obnoxiously endearing. He leans against the wall next to my door. “You have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don’t know yours. Doesn’t seem fair.”

“Blevins. Efa Blevins.” I mutter, feeling my face redden under his attention.

“Like Bond, James Bond?”

“No, Like dork. Super dork.” His laugh, oh my goodness. Like a warm blanket on a cold night.

“Nice to meet you, Blevins, Efa Blevins. I have a feeling I’ll see you around.” His tone is suggestive.

My eyebrow rises in confusion, he can’t possibly be attending the book signing tomorrow. “Why would you?”

“We’re staying at the same hotel. Anything is possible.” I blush darker for the obvious reason, and I hope the dim lighting of the hallway and my bronze skin hides it enough. His knowing grin suggests otherwise. I stand stock-still while he walks back down the hallway and enters the elevator. It opens immediately for him, like it was expecting him. Even the elevator is captivated by him.

Dropping my head to the hotel room door, I tell the elevator and myself, “He’s got a wife or girlfriend. We don’t stand a chance.”

Mom opens the door suddenly and I nearly fall into her, and our room. I manage to catch myself with a yelp.

“As your mother, that was really hard to listen to.”

I roll my eyes and begin bringing in our stuff. “Then you shouldn’t be eavesdropping.”

Mom continues, “Unfortunately, that isn’t the worst thing to happen to you today.”

Snorting, I put my hands on my hips and stare at her, “Well, we almost died.”

She points a finger at me, “I almost died, you almost witnessed it, there’s a difference.” She shakes her head once, “Never mind that, I meant this.” She motions inside the room toward the bathroom. It takes me a second to realize what she’s pointing at.

“What the fuck?”

Efa 4.

“It’s not like the hotel room is free. I paid money to stay here. I paid for amenities that most have come to expect from an established hotel chain. And that includes a complete, lockable, solid bathroom door.”

“Efa, sorry,Tacy, you’ve got to let it go.”

I stop in the middle of the event corridor, my rolling cart packed to the gills behind me, and stare at my mother aghast that she would suggest such a thing.

“Let it go? Let it go? Who am I, Queen Elsa? No, I’m not letting it go. A bathroom is a private, safe space. I should feel comfortable and free to ‘bathe’ in any way I see fit without fear of others hearing what I’m doing in there.”

“You once defecated on your father’s face as an infant. I’ve held you while you threw up over my shoulder and down my back. You used to bend over, no matter where we were, and yell, ‘I’m done!’, waiting for anyone to come and wipe your tush.”

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